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<title>Prompt #11 (90-Prompt Challenge) by GlitterBombLove</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270608">Prompt #11 (90-Prompt Challenge)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBombLove/pseuds/GlitterBombLove'>GlitterBombLove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompts - 90 Challenge [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fantasy, Flash Fic, Horror, Prompt Fic, Vignette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:28:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBombLove/pseuds/GlitterBombLove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt #11<br/>Genre: Fantasy / Horror<br/>December 23, 2020</p><p>Prompt Idea: Tenants<br/>Source: Original</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Prompts - 90 Challenge [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052597</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Prompt #11 (90-Prompt Challenge)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The landlord pounded on the apartment door.</p><p>"Mrs. Vacaville? Ellie?" He called out to his tenants and waited for them. His renters were an elderly lady and his little granddaughter. He was checking on them after the child's teacher phoned him to inquire if Ellie was alright. The little girl was absent for two weeks without any word. The school was concerned because their calls to the grandmother went unanswered. The teacher told him Mrs. Vacaville scribbled only one other contact name and number besides her own on the school form -- her landlord Baldwin LeRoy.  </p><p>Baldwin hammered on the door again. He waited patiently. </p><p>He promised the school teacher he would check on them and headed up to their unit right away. He was unsurprised he was the only one on the contact list. The two struck him as alone in the world and a bit peculiar from the moment he saw them a year ago. They appeared one rainy night and begged to rent a furnished apartment he recently listed. He felt sorry for pair immediately. The old woman seemed unhealthy -- coughing and struggling to breathe -- and frail little girl with unblinking dark button eyes. They clutched the straps of beat-up duffle bag between them and shivered from the cold outside.    </p><p>The woman introduced herself as Lily Vacaville and her granddaughter as Ellie. Even though she wore a cheap wool coat, there was something regal and old-money about her -- maybe in the tilt of her chin or her regal posture. She explained they had just arrived by Greyhound from a small town in the Midwest. A fire killed her family members - including the little girl's parents - and destroyed her family home and all of their belongings. She had no rental history because she had lived in the family home all her life and all her loved ones had perished except for this small child.  </p><p>"We Vacavilles kept to ourselves. Perhaps too much because we have no one else to turn to these days," she wheezed. "But I'm fortunate for Ellie."</p><p>Having no other ties to their small town, Mrs. Vacaville left and hoped to find a job and a better life in the big city. He must have looked doubtful her condition to find employment, because she hastily assured him they could pay rent from a small insurance payout they received from the house fire.</p><p>Baldwin sensed Lily Vacaville was not being entirely truthful. His gut instinct told him they were hiding from someone or something. They looked like they needed help. So, he rented to them on the spot. He eschewed his normal application requirements -- references, employment history and credit check -- and let them have the apartment immediately. Mrs. Vacaville paid him in cash.</p><p>In the year that followed, Baldwin's instincts proved to be right. They became his favorite tenants and settled into a peaceful life in their apartment. He rarely glimpsed the old woman. Mrs. Vacaville proved to be housebound. She never found employment - but still managed pay the monthly rent on time. Each month she sent the little girl down with the rent money along with a plate of freshly baked cookies. They were polite, quiet and never complained about the apartment or other neighbors. </p><p>Baldwin pounded on the door one last time. Finally, he gave up and fumbled through his collection of keys hanging on a large circular ring to find the one for their apartment. He located it and opened their door.</p><p>The place was a mess. His heart sunk as he realized his favorite tenants trashed his unit. He stepped over soiled clothes, crumpled papers and food packages on the floor. No surface of the house was bare. Empty pizza boxes and opened jars of half-eaten jams and peanut butter and cans were strewn on the counters and tables. He almost fainted when he saw cockroaches as big as his thumb scurry across slices of moldy bread.</p><p>A smell hit his nose. The rotting odor was so pungent, he pinched his nose and fought a gag convulsing his throat. He stepped through the piles of garbage on the floor.</p><p>"Anyone here?" He said loudly. "It's Mr. LeRoy. I got a call from Ellie's school.....is everything alright?"</p><p>"We're here!" The old lady's thin voice called out to him from the bedroom down the hall.</p><p>"Shhhh.... no, grandma. I told you to keep quiet." He heard Ellie's voice. "Go away! Don't come in!"</p><p>As he walked down the hallway to toward the bedroom, he glanced at water dripping from the ceiling. A pipe was dripping and they never bothered to report it to him. He felt a rise of irritation along with disgust. He was glad they were safe but the apartment was filthy and damaged. He' was uncertain how he was going to handle the condition of this place. He did not want to evict them, but he couldn't have hoarders trashing the place. He entered the bedroom and he froze in shock.</p><p>A grandmother laid on the bed with a flowered bedsheet covering her from head to toe. In horror, he realized the tiny spots were not floral patterns because they were moving. Flies crawled and buzzed around large stains on the linen. The little girl was on the floor next to the bed.</p><p>The little girl sat in bright patch of sunshine near an open window. She refused to look at Baldwin in the eye and was rocking back and forth. In her arms, she cradled a doll the size of an infant. The doll was homemade and roughly sewn with four appendages for arms and legs. A burlap face threaded so sloppily, he could not make out any features except for a puckered hole for a mouth. The mouth moved slowly and the muffled voice of the grandmother wheezed out.</p><p>"I'm so sorry, Mr. LeRoy. You'll have to forgive me -- I haven't been .... feeling well."</p><p>"What in God's name," he took a step back. Blood rushed to his head as he watched the girl cover the doll's ears and crouch over it protectively. She looked up at him with sad little eyes. </p><p>"She doesn't know yet." The little girl said mournfully. "I didn't know what else to do. I put her in here."</p>
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